What Matters Most
by cloverblob
Summary: She couldn't look at Lauren, she couldn't glimpse her lover's face and see the cuts or the bruises; she wasn't ready for that. So she looked at him, listened to him gasp for breath, futilely struggle against her grip, and fall to his knees.


**Author's Note:** Filled a request for a fic about Bo's thoughts when she saved Lauren from the kid at the end of episode 3.10. I do hope you enjoy.

Here she was, running again. She hated running, the physical stress on her body really wasn't worth it most of the time. Running was tough on the knees, and not to mention toll it took on her rather ample chest. And it's not like she was ever prepared to run when she had to run; things just happened and off she went. She'd driven faster than any city speed limit too; there was absolutely no time to waste. Not for this. She'd picked up the first thing she'd had in her car – a baseball bat.

She rushed through the light fae living compound. Its structure was sleek and white, fancy but kind of soulless, she'd always thought. She could hear a struggle as she rounded the top flight of stairs, and she put even more speed into her strides. Her eyes widened at the sight, the boy with his hands around her lover's throat. She could barely register the sight of Lauren in paid. She could hear nothing but her struggling breath; see nothing the wounds upon her perfect face; and missed the name-calling she would have been so proud to hear from her affectionately docile girlfriend.

And then she lunged.

There was nary a thought in her head in that moment; it was pure fury.

It almost scared her – how good it felt to hold the bat against his throat. She tried to listen for the sound of his flesh succumbing to the pressure of the wood and her brute strength; as though she might find delight in that as well. The thought came that she might simply snap his neck, over and done with. And she could have easily done it too. But she didn't. Later, she'd regret this very thought; she wanted him to suffer instead.

This was what he deserved, after all. He had planned it – it was premeditated, he had decided to kill the love of her life, to choke the life out of her.

Bo was only returning the favour.

She focused on him – focused her anger, her regret, her incompetence at solving this case. This was her fault. She hadn't seen the signs. This was her fault and she was going to make it right. Lauren shouldn't have even been involved in the first place; and so this was Bo's burden to bear. She was fixing her mistake.

She couldn't look at Lauren, she couldn't glimpse her love's face and see the cuts or the bruises; she wasn't ready for that. So she looked at him, listened to him gasp for breath, futilely struggle against her grip, and fall to his knees.

She hadn't heard Dyson call her name the first time. She hadn't even heard him enter; there was nothing in the world but holding that bat and crushing that monster's windpipe. When Dyson placed his hands on her, she moved her gaze for the first time and they fell immediately on Lauren. And so she ran again; she ran to where she belonged – by her side.

She knelt down and regretted not having snapped his neck as she'd first thought. She should have done away with him and focused on what was most important: Lauren.

She wrapped her arm around her, helping her sit up, and carressed the side of her face. She took in the sight of her. "It's okay. It's okay. You're okay," she said softly, but her words were rushed. She said it first to confirm for herself that Lauren was okay, to know that she would be fine. And she said it second to assure Lauren of that same thing. It was almost a chant, a chant of assurance and an attempt at comfort.

Bo pulled her in, and realized tears had started down her face. Her view of Lauren was blurry by them, but she could not let go of her lover with either hand. She pulled her in instead, and softened as Lauren too embraced her. She had to hold her, and they had to watch as he was carried off; a moment of closure.

She was careful; her arms held onto Lauren softly, she did not want to hurt her further. She would never want to hurt her. She wanted – _needed _– her to be irrevocably sure that Bo would never let this happen again. She would protect her, and she would _always_ hold her.


End file.
